What Love Really Means
by Tigertopaz-Titanium Banana
Summary: "Dear God won't you please... Could you send someone here who will love me?" Not for what I have done or what I will become…Who will love me for me? Slash, HP/DM, Language, mpreg, self-harm


**A/N: Yay! My first Harry Potter fic! Yes, this is a songfic…**

**EDITED: 6/5/11**

**Summary: "Dear God won't you please... Could you send someone here who will love me?" Not for what I have done or what I will become…Who will love me for me? Slash, HP/DM, Language, implied mpreg**

**Rating: T for now…**

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

**Now introducing…*drumroll***

**What Love Really Means**

The war was over. Everyone was happy- except one Harry James Potter. He was slowly sinking into his own personal hell. Every day was the same- people staring, asking for his autograph, paparazzi never leaving him the privacy of his old life.

Why couldn't someone, anyone, see that he wanted no more of this? After a lifetime of abuse and manipulation, didn't he deserve peace? He had thought that killing the greatest Dark wizard that had ever lived would solve his problems, but instead had created more problems that he had bargained for.

The first time stepping into Hogsmeade after the fateful "Battle of Hogwarts" was, to say the least, a disaster. People tried to mob him from all directions. Even the "elite" force sent by the Order wasn't enough to keep everyone at bay.

That night, Harry was heartbroken. What if somebody had gotten hurt? The sole purpose of defeating Voldemort was to stop people from getting hurt, not cause more injuries. He was still a freak.

Harry stood up. His decision was made.

With a heavy heart, he went to the bathroom, wand in hand. He looked in the cabinet above the sink, and got out a fingernail filer.

He transfigured it into a knife. Harry spent a good ten minutes just looking at the silver blade, then sat on the toilet seat. He took a deep breath, and dragged it across his wrist.

Staring in fascination at the blood that welled up, he did the same with the other wrist.

From then on, things went downhill. He sank into a deep depression that could only be remedied by one thing. Cutting. His addiction. His drug.

He tried to hide it from the others, or course, but was not always successful against Hermione and Minerva McGonagall's hawk eyes.

Even though, days and weeks passed by in blurs. He couldn't be fazed from his personal hell, not even when the Malfoys, Lucius and Draco, arrived at Grimmauld Place. Even under Draco's stares, his all-too-intimate brush-bys, his friendly demeanor. If anything else, it only served to make him more worried.

_He cries in the corner where nobody sees, he's the kid with the story no one would believe.  
He prays every night, "Dear God won't you please... Could you send someone here who will love me?" Who will love me for me? Not for what I have done or what I will become.  
Who will love me for me? 'Cause nobody has shown me what love, what love really means, what love really means…_

Days, weeks, months passed, as Harry became more depressed, and was resorting to cutting more and more, unable to stay away from the dark fascination of the blood welling up, drowning him…

Hermione cornered him one day and demanded to know why he always wore long sleeves, even during the middle of summer. Harry shrugged it off, and quickly retreated to a different room.

One day, on July 30, he decided that that night, he would end it. At midnight, on his birthday. Oh, the irony! At least he would be able to see his parents, Sirius, Remus,. all the others who had died for him…

That night, at 11:59 pm, he snuck to the bathroom, and took out his knife. He watched the clock that was fatefully counting down the mere seconds until his death…

_He's waiting to die as he sits all alone, he's a man in a cell who regrets what he's done.  
He utters a cry from the depths of his soul.  
"Oh Lord, forgive me, I want to go home"_

He watched the hand move, move until it covered the "twelve"…It was time. He took a deep breath…and dragged the deadly blade across the vital vein in his left wrist, then did the same to his other wrist in turn. There. His work was done.

Just as he slumped against the bathtub, however, the door burst open, and who else was to rush in other than Draco Malfoy?

Draco just stood, staring, for an endless sliver in time, then rushed to his half-conscious side.

"Harry! Harry, talk to me!"

"D-Drac-co…"

"Yes, this is Draco. We need to get you help, now!"

Ignoring Harry's pleas of "no," he picked him up, bridal style, and rushed to the living room and laid him on the sofa, not caring at all about the blood spread everywhere.

"You stupid, stupid boy," he murmured, then bent down and pressed his lips flush against Harry's for the first time.

_Then he heard a voice somewhere deep inside. And it said, "I know you've murdered, and I know you've lied. And I have watched you suffer all of your life And now that you'll listen, I'll tell you that I..."  
I will love you for you. Not for what you have done or what you will become.  
I will love you for you_

Harry's last conscious thought was, _Damn, that felt…nice._

Draco almost lost hope when he saw Harry's shoulders relax, but his flame of hope flickered and lit again when he noticed the faint movement of the unconscious boy's shoulders, signifying breath.

Other people, it seemed, were woken up by the commotion.

"What are you doing out of-" Minerva McGonagall's sharp tone was brought to a halt as she stared at Harry's limp form. For once, she seemed at a loss for words.

Suddenly, she snapped back into professor mode. "Draco! Go get Poppy, quick!"

Draco was sure that he'd never run faster. In no time at all, Madam Pomfrey was casting several healing spells at Harry. The scars that Draco had seen seemed to shrink in on themselves, leaving only a slight raised bump, as a reminder of this fateful night.

"He will survive, although I will have to get several Blood Replenishing Potions into him, the poor lamb," the mediwitch reported, although he last few words were lost to Draco as he let out a a huge breath that he hadn't known he's been holding.

By now, of course, Hermione and Ron were by Harry's side, faces pale. They knew that he'd been depressed, but they had no idea that he would take it this far.

After what seemed like an eternity, Harry began to stir. He blink and open his eyes to see- Draco, Hermione, and Ron surrounding his bed. "What the hell?"

"It seems we should be asking _you_ that question, Harry," scolded Hermione.

"Oh, well…" Harry blushed but before he could get out any more, he found someone else's lips pressing against his own. Draco's lips. Strangely, he found that…he rather liked it.

"You scared me, you arsehole!" Draco pulled away. "You stupid Gryffindor! I love you," he added, and drew Harry in for another kiss.

_I will love you for you.  
Not for what you have done or what you will become.  
I will love you for you._

And for the first time in his life, Harry felt wanted.

-XD-

_Twelve Years Later_

"Melissa Lillian Potter-Malfoy! What do you think you're doing?"

"Well," the blond ten-year-old girl pondered, "It wasn't my fault. And anyway, I have chocolate!"

To prove her point, she took out a bar and waved it in her father's face.

Harry immediately melted. "Fine- but give me that chocolate!"

"Now honey," Draco scolded, rubbing Harry's rounded belly, "You can't be that passive!"

"But- But I wanted the chocolate!" Harry protested, eyes beginning to well with tears. "And the baby wants it too."

Melissa just stood there, watching the proceedings, until Draco shooed her out. "But dad!-"

"But dad nothing, darling. Your father is a bit on edge right now. Why don't you go play with your brother Edan?"

"But he's boring," he began, but cut off at the glare Draco sent her way. "Well, okay…"

Harry was still sniffling when Draco got back to him. "Honey, it's okay," Draco soothed, rubbing Harry's back in circles.

"Y-Yes, I guess it will be. I love you, Draco."

Draco almost sighed. Harry's mood swings were mentally exhausting, if not a little cute.

But right now, he couldn't really bring himself to care.

_I will love you for you.  
Not for what you have done or what you will become.  
I will love you for you._

-XD-

Harry was in heaven. He had a family, and a place to call home. Draco was the best husband ever, and he had two wonderful kids- with two more coming. What more could he wish for?

_He will love me for me.  
Not for what I have done or what I will become. He will love me for me.  
'Cause nobody has shown me what love, what love really means, what love really means…_

-XD-

**Yes, I cut out the second verse, and yes, I added a different chorus for the end. Any question? No? Great.**

**Oh yes, and: I swear, the names for their kids came out of nowhere…**

**Please Review! A minute of your time for hours of mine!**

**Tigertopaz- Titanium Banana**


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